


Tripping Over My Words

by PrincessAmericaChavez



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 15:31:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13999131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessAmericaChavez/pseuds/PrincessAmericaChavez
Summary: 5 Times Fjord accidentally slipped into his real accent around Jester and 1 time he didn't.





	Tripping Over My Words

**1.** The first time it isn’t really a  _slip,_ so much as an instinct. They are doing recon, to make sure that her ‘package’ isn’t a trap set by the lord that is after her. Disguised as lords themselves, they strut around and make demands for a good double room, which includes a series of as many veiled suggestive comments from Jester as he expected. 

He uses his voice for the whole thing, because the place is intimidating as fuck and he’s afraid to screw it up if his nerves get the better of him. He has no idea how in hell  _she_ keeps her cool the entire time, because he can’t breathe until they are alone in the room.

“That went well,” he sighs. “I don’t believe I noticed anything off, but it would be a good idea to keep an eye out just in case they noticed tha-  _what?”_

He stops when he notices her smiling at him mischievously, as if he’d shared a juicy secret, or an inside joke.

“Your voice,” she whispers. “You are still using your  _other_ voice.”

“I- uh? Hum,” he cleared his throat. “Oh, you’re right. Right,” he quickly corrected his tone. “Sorry, got distracted.”

“Yeah, it’s okay,” she laughed with a shrug. “I told you, I like it too.”

* * *

 

 **2.** The second time he is deep in sleep, deep inside the ocean, deep in fear as a giant eye stares into his soul.  _Learn, Grow, Provoke, Consume._ The words keep spiraling around him like sharks, getting closer and closer, louder inside his head like a chorus of furious voices. He keeps asking what it means, how he can do it, begging for guidance, but all he gets in return is the darkness growing colder and more oppressive. 

“Fjord! Fjord!” 

Something suddenly shakes him, a tentacle, a furious voice, he pulls back. 

His eyes open and sits up. He tries to scream but his lungs burn with held up water. He immediately starts spitting salty water on his side, his body curving violently, burning with it. He struggles to gasp for air as something else touches his shoulder. 

With a thought, his falchion appears in his hand and he points it towards the attacker, who turns out to be a very surprised Jester, that yelps and jumps backwards with her hands up. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You were screaming! And you sounded like you were in trouble! And I thought it was a nightmare! And your voice was doing that thing and-”

He quickly puts his arm down and sends her an apologetic look. 

“I’m sorry. It’s okay. It’s- I’m alright. I-” He takes in a deep breath and focuses, until his voice recovers its usual tone. “Sorry, darlin’, I’m good. Didn’t mean to spook you.”

* * *

 

 **3.** The third time he’s in the middle of  _gods know how many_ drinks, chatting with Beau and Caleb, chuckling and sharing old stories —none too compromising, he is sure, none that would give away too much about his past. He thinks he’s doing alright in  _that_ front, until Jester peeks over Beau’s shoulder.

“ _Fjord!”_ She chuckles, as if she was reprimanding a child. “You’re doing your voices, now? Why are you practicing right now?”

“What?”

“Yes!” She stares at him with wide eyes, as if she was trying to tell him something very important, a secret. “You were doing your  _guard_ voice. The one from Port Damali.”

“Oh, uh, oh yeah,” he blinks, falling back into his usual tone. “Thought I would try a few different now, while we talk, for good practice. How about this one?” He asks changing his voice to a gruffer one, that he picked up from a traveling goliath years ago. 

“That one’s cool!” Beau grins widely. “Sounds badass.”

“Very intimidating,” Caleb nods in agreement. “But I think you could do better with a softer one.”

“No way, man, soft is  _lame_!” Beau snorts.

As they argue, he sends Jester a quick look. The way she  _worded_  it, without calling him out about it being his real voice, almost like a warning, is unexpected, and very lucky. He had no idea he’d slipped up. He sends her a quick thankful nod, to which she replies with a quick wink, before turning her attention back towards Nott.

* * *

 

 **4.** The fourth time is after a battle in which he goes down and wakes up to a worried looking Jester, who has both hands pressed against his chest and is too focused on closing his wounds to even realize he’s awake.

“Thanks, Jester,” he whispers, bringing a hand up to grab her wrist

“You need to stop doing that! You scared me!” She snaps at him, eyes tearful.

He sits up, so that he’s closer to her, and quickly squishes her shoulder. 

“I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

He can tell she doesn’t believe him by the way her eyes narrow as she pouts. 

“Hey,” he tilts his head down slightly, meets her eyes, and does his best to be completely honest by even dropping his accent for a second. “I promise. Seriously.”

“Okay!” She smiles widely, apparently comforted by that. “I’ll go check on the others.”

* * *

 

 **5.** The fifth time, well, he’s just caught off guard. As they choose their rooms for the night and they pair up as usual, Jester shrugs and quite loudly says: “I mean, yes, unless Fjord wants to share a room with me instead.”

“I- Uh- You-” He half chokes on his drink. “I don’t- I mean, it’s not that I  _don’t_ want- It’s more… I mean, if you… Well I don’t know if that would be… maybe we should…”

“You okay there?” Beau tilts her head. “Not sounding like yourself.”

“Uh, what?” He grunts, quickly getting his shit together enough to return to his usual cadence. 

“You were just… like a second ago you sounded…”

“It’s okay,” Jester interrupts with a smile. “I was just joking. Beau is my roomie and I wouldn’t leave her!”

“Hell yeah!” Beau high fives the tiefling and, after a brief suspicious look towards Fjord, moves on. 

Crap, that was too close. They are onto him.

* * *

 

 **+1.** She goes down and it’s like the world just  _stops_. He hears the panic of the others, accompanies them towards the nearest temple, helps however he can, but his voice —any variation of it, really— has abandoned him. For the first time, he can’t find the words to make this better, nothing he says can fix this, not even the magic he’s learnt over the past few months. The air only seems to return to his lungs when a contribution to the ritual is needed and he finds his feet guiding him towards her body. 

“Jester,” he whispers, and he uses his real voice, the only one that leaves no shields between him and the world, the one she’s already known for so long, “I don’t know if you can hear me, I don’t know much about this things yet, but I know you and I know you are not the kind to give up. So you have to come back, darling. Because we had a deal, remember?” He asks, voice shaking with a nervous laughter as he brushes off some blue locks away from her pale face. “We haven’t gotten to the Academy yet, and I haven’t helped you find your dad, and… and I can’t lose you, Jester. You’re the one person that knows me best in the world, you are my first real friend too, you know? So come back, please. Come back to me.”

And as he pulls away, allowing the ritual to continue, he can feel his heart on her throat and everyone else’s eyes on him. He doesn’t care. For the very first time, he really could care less about his secrets, or his identity, or what they might think of him after this. All that he can deal with in time. Right now, his eyes and attention are set on the blue girl in front of him, as she takes a first desperate breath of air.


End file.
